


Past, Present, Run

by pitterpatterpot



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Friendship, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitterpatterpot/pseuds/pitterpatterpot
Summary: An insight to Aedion's past relationship with Kyllian, along with a group of protective ancient fae males who are interested in the male that used to date their friends son.A fic about Aedion and Kyllian, along with the cadre suspicious of the male they barely know who used to date Aedion.





	Past, Present, Run

“How did you two meet?”

Aedion snaps his head up the same time Kyllian does, both of them staring at Lysandra. The shifter simply raises a brow at them, head in hand, from across the table. Gavriel himself looks at the expectantly from where he sits next to her. Aedion and Kyllian are still hunched close together, Kyllian leaning over a Laical book with Aedion.

“Pardon?” Kyllian asks, deep voice rolling smoothly.

Lysandra flicks her eyebrows up again, smiling sweetly. “Your relationship. Your meeting. How did it all go? Who approached who? Who caved in first?”

Aedion frowns. “What makes you think one of us caved i-“

“Aedion.”

He whirls around to glare at Kyllian, a growl erupting. The dark-haired man simply grins.

“Interesting,” Lysandra’s eyes spark, and Gavriel simply sighs, debating how long he wishes to stay for the conversation. “How did you meet?”

“At the theatre,” Aedion sips his drink.

Gavriel frowns and Lysandra blinks.

“I- Really?” Gavriel asks. “I mean I know you have a dramatic flair, and I could actually see you doing something in that genre-“

“No!” Aedion scowls over Kyllian’s snickers. “Gods, the war camps! We met in the war camps where we were trained together! Why would you think I had anything to do with theatre?”

Fenrys, walking past their table, stops, overhearing the last fo his sentence. “Theatre? I was wondering when you’d tell us about that. Are you going on stage anytime soon?”

Kyllian positively cackles, practically falling out of his seat and needing to grab onto Aedion’s arm to keep upright. Other’s eating dinner send them glances, yet continue eating, more than used to the queen’s court by now.

“Why the hell would you think I have anything to do with the theatre?” Aedion growls at Fenrys, hands braced on the table.  
“Well you and Aelin talk about going all the time and you’re both really dramatic so I just thought-“

“That’s enough for one night,” Aedion cuts him off, standing.

“No! No!” Kyllian grabs Aedion’s shirt, using it keep himself up as he heaves with laughter. “They’re sorry! I’m sorry! Besides, how we met is actually interesting!”

“Oh, is it?” Rowan slides into the seat next to Gavriel, Vaughan joining him.

“Aren’t you supposed to sit with your queen?” Aedion narrows his eyes.

“I’m right here,” Aelin all but purrs, sliding into the seat next to Lysandra.

Aedion blinks at everyone, realising that the entire court has some how managed to slide their way down the table to surround Kyllian and him. “How long have you all been waiting to corner us?”

“Since Kyllian first arrived and you all but pushed an offical out of his chair so Kyllian could sit next to you.”

“That’s not surprising,” Kyllian flashes Aedion a grin. “You’ve always been protective over your greatest friends.”

“What happened?” Lysandra prompts again. “You’re both still obviously close to each other.”

“Nothing to worry about there,” Kyllian winks at her. “I was pushing him to treat you like the queen you are all throughout your stay in the camps when I first met you.”

“Darling, you know I love you, no need to try to convince me.”

“I want to leave,” Aedion mutters under his breath, poking at the food on his plate. “Ten years of fighting and now this. It’ll never end, will it?”

“No, it won’t,” Vaughan says miserably. “I’ve literally gone form one court to another and still have these bastards with me.”

Fenrys, Rowan and Gavriel all give their voices of concern and surprise.

“Lorcan isn’t here,” Rowan points out, crossing his arms.

“He visits with Elide,” Vaughan grumbles into his drink, looking away. “We see him and each other more now then we ever did before.”

“Did you all ever have a favourite?” Aedion grins.

Gavriel says ‘no’ at the same time the other cadre members say ‘Gavriel.’ The Lion blinks at them all in surprise.

“What did you expect?” Fenrys snorts. “You’re the only one even Lorcan can stand. But who’s you’re favourite?”

The wolf grins at that, leaning in close. Even though they won’t admit it the rest of the cadre members perk in interest, Aedion unabashedly smirking at the way the attention has now shifted to his father.

“Aedion,” Gavriel answers flatly, everyone crying in outrage, Aedion choking, Kyllian, Lysandra and Aelin cackling.

“But he’s not a-“

“Aedion,” Gavriel repeats again stubbornly, sipping his drink and looking away.

“See what you’ve done, boyo?” Fenrys scowls at Aedion. “You’ve stolen all his attention. Greedy little thing, huh?”

Aedion levels him with a look. “You’ve taken my cousins attention. You deserve all the shit you get.”

Fenrys exclaims his hurt as everyone else laughs, the wolf collapsing against the queens side.

“This has been fun,” Aedion snorts, still smirking, as he stands. “I think I’ll go and-“

“How did you two meet?” Aelin smirks the same smirk as him. “Either you can stay and tell, or we get dear Kyllian to explain it all.”

And Kyllian, dear Kyllian who stood by Aedion’s side as not only his lover, but now as one of his best friend’s, gives Aedion the most shit eating grin that has ever been directed to him at a dinner table. Gritting his teeth, Aedion sends his friend a venomous glare as he sits back down. Kyllian simply smiles.

“So,” Kyllian grins at everyone, leaning forward on his crossed arms. “We first met when Aedion came to my war camp when he was a lieutenant. He was sixteen and I was eighteen-“

“You were a lieutenant at sixteen?” Gavriel beams at his son.

Aedion looks to the side, mumbling with his arms crossed, only slight colour entering his face. Smirking, Kyllian turns back to the story.

“So, we were all being introduced to this new lieutenant during training one morning. I had been in the army since I was fifteen, two years older then Aedion was at thirteen. When we first met I was eighteen at the time, and yet this sixteen year old was a lieutenant! I couldn’t believe that someone so young had been given a position higher then me! No one could! They couldn’t wait to give the bastard, mixed breed, Terrasarian upstart hell.”

“You never gave me hell!” Aedion chokes on a laugh. “Some others did but you-“

“Decided not to after you broke the arm of the first person that insulted you that morning,” Kyllian follow through, grinning proudly at his friend.

Everyone let’s out low mumbles and whistles, the cadre members gazing at Aedion with new appraisal. The young demi-fae can’t help but notice the looks, resisting the urge to smirk at the new-found appreciation he’s gained.

“Good on you, boyo,” Fenrys grins, after whistling low under his breath. “You should talk to Lorcan; he has plenty of stories of how he bloodied up people who would pick on the fact he was a bastard.”

“I know,” Aedion shows his teeth. “We’ve been swapping stories.”

Many rolls their eyes at that, and others chuckle.

“So you didn’t give Aedion hell?” Aelin raises a brow at Kyllian.

“No, and considering where I am now that was a good idea,” Kyllian chuckles, slinging an arm over the back of his chair and relaxing. “After that wonderful demonstration on how to break an arm we all no longer doubted the stories we had been told. Stories of a warrior with fae blood in his veins, young but vicious, slicing his way to the top even though under all circumstances he should have had his throat slit. We were all beginning to see why the king had allowed him to live; who wouldn’t want to try to turn a person who’s basically a weapon onto their side?”

“It was never easy,” Aedion’s voice drops.

“I know,” Kyllian’s eyes, if possible, darken even further as his mouth sets into a frown. “But you made it look easy. You commanded respect, not just through fear but by taking the time to learn everyone. To make them believe that you would step in front of a sword for them, even if that was the opposite of the truth. You made them believe you would guard them, instead of slitting their throats in their sleep. You were disrespected, yes, but that didn’t stop you from grabbing power and holding on with all you have.”

“You’re not making me sound the best,” Aedion grins.

“We all know you were a wonderful traitor,” Aelin rolls her eyes at her cousin. “So, what, you saw him then and were besotted?”

“No,” Kyllian laughs, albeit a little weakly at the narrowed, suspicious eyes Gavriel sends his way. “I wasn’t going to suddenly date a sixteen year old when I was eighteen.”

“You were one of the only ones with that particular moral set,” Aedion breathes, looking down into his drink.

Everyone can’t help but nearly wince at that, especially Gavriel, who sends a pleading look to his son. So many would have taken advantage of the sixteen year old lieutenant, particularly those in a higher position than him.

“Anyway,” Kyllian pulls the conversation back on topic, “one thing led to another, and I realised at one point that this invincible sixteen year old maybe wasn’t as aloof as he seemed. Eventually I convinced him to spend more time with me, and we became friends.”

“After we beat the shit out of each other,” Aedion deadpans, yet obviously struggling to keep back a smile.

“Obviously,” Kyllian snorts. “You were and are a bastard. I needed to have a shot at you before making my decision.”

“In the end we both bloodied each other up,” Aedion picks up the story, “and admiring each other’s skill we decided to be friends. I needed someone to help me keep others in line, and having someone among the troops to spread good word about me was an opportunity worth taking.”

“And that’s why Aedion decided to tolerate my presence,” Kyllian rolls his eyes, gesturing to the blond with his drink.

“Wonderful,” Lysandra says dryly. “But what about your romantic history?”

“What?” Aelin straightens, eyes wide as she turns to stare at the two males. “You two were together?” She turns to Aedion. “He’s the one that took you to the back of the bar and-“

Everyone can hear the resounding thud under the table, doing nothing to mask Aelin’s growl of pain, her leg shooting up from under the table. Rowan whips around to growl at the glaring Aedion, Gavriel beginning to stand, obviously ready to jump in front of his son if need be. Fenrys and Vaughan simply grin, more then ready to take bets.

Kyllian gapes at Aedion. “You told her about the night at the bar?”

A flush steadily creeps Aedion’s face, his eyes wide as he swallows. Gavriel himself winces, looking away from his son in discomfort, uncomfortable himself at hearing about ‘the bar,’ whatever the gods that it. Fenrys however releases a wolf whistle, earning a quick glare from Gavriel, who turns on his friend instead.

“Really, Fenrys?” Gavriel nearly growls.

“If the boyo gets action then the boyo gets action!” Fenrys cackles, tipping back in his chair.

“I just wanted a nice dinner,” Aedion growls. “How did it get to this?”

“Ooh. What happened at the bar?” Lysandra sits forward, eyes sparked greatly with interest.

“Lysandra!”

“I just want to know!”

“That’s it!” Aedion stands, pushing his chair back roughly. “I’m going to go train.”

“I’ll join you,” Kyllian stands, stretching, a sliver of stomach exposed.

“Have fun, boys,” the shifter winks.

“For fuck’s sake, Lysandra! We’re dating!”

~~~

“I like Lysandra,” Kyllian casually mentions as he follows Aedion to the training rings, hands behind his head. “She’s good for you and I like talking to her.”

“Do not tell her what happened at the bar.”

“She’s too interested,” Kyllian grins. “It’s better to keep it from her and let her imagination run wild. Besides, now she’ll just question you instead.”

Aedion releases a deep breath through his nose. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No,” Aedion agrees sullenly. “Thank you, for telling them we met like that.”

“It’s the truth,” Kyllian answers quietly, shrugging. “Nothing else needs to be said.”

They continue to walk in silence, minds cast back to a previous time.

~~~

Eight years ago

~~~

“Did you hear about the runt that’s coming?”

Ears fuelled thanks to fae blood perk, a devilish grin adorning a tanned face.

“Fuck, sixteen. Who the hell would make a sixteen year old a lieutenant?”

“Anyone that’s seen the boy fight would. They say he’s like a devil from hell.”

Three of them in the room… no, four. But the fourth one hasn’t spoken yet. Aedion stands in the doorway, looking at the four males on the other side of the open spaced oval training ring. They’re early, much like Aedion.

But they don’t have good hearing, like Aedion. They’re unaware of his presence from where they stands by the sword stand. It’s easy to identify the three that are talking and the one that stays silent. Just from the way he stands a little seperate from the group, his skin a few shades darker, his black hair wild and onyx eyes watching with scrutiny as he leans against a stand with his arms crossed. He’s clearly older then Aedion (not known from the muscles lining his arms and figure, shown by his tight black vest with nothing underneath, god’s no, Aedion hasn’t noticed that at all) but rather by his slightly taller height and the way the male carries himself as if he is watching children.

Then his eyes flick to meet Aedion’s.

And he grins.

Maybe not too old then, if he’s nearly going as far to poke his tongue out at a stranger.

Aedion blinks rapidly, thrown off balance. How long has it been since he’s seen any form of humour such as this?

…Right. Two to three years. It’s rare to find it in a war camp. Yet this young man seems to have no problem outrightly grinning at Aedion, not smirking, but grinning with what can only be clear joy. He must be able to clearly see he golden pin on Aedion’s vest that marks him as the lieutenant, yet he just gestures to the other boys and rolls his eyes, making a face. He must catch the way Aedion smiles for a split second, because his grin somehow grows even larger.

Aedion schools his features, and steps into the training area, easily hearing the rest of the group approaching the area. The male quickly school his features, but Aedion can clearly see the humour in his eyes.

But it’s not in a challenge. That much is obvious.

Fuck. What’s Aedion supposed to do? Most of the time it’s an insult, a degrading way to try to put him below his station, so he can simply teach the person a lesson.

But this isn’t against him. How is he supposed to react?

“Can’t believe they’d let a bastard runt be a lieutenant. To think they’re giving bastards positions now.”

“It is hard to believe,” Aedion allows his voice to smooth out in the air, strolling forward.

He sees recognition spark in the eyes of the three chatty males, yet simply smiles at the one whom made the comment. He can almost see the way they all shrink in fear before the bravado, the realisation that Aedion is younger than them, helps puff them up with false courage once again.

“Who are you?” The middle once scowls.

Aedion raises both brows, highly aware of the fact that the training area is now filled, all eyes on them as he taps his badge. “The new lieutenant. I believe you were talking about me? I’d be happy to answer any questions.”

Silence rings out.

“Right,” Aedion turns on his heel, walking to the centre of the gravel-covered oval, raising his voice. “First thing we’re doing-“

“…Fucking whore as a lieutenant…”

It happens as fast as a flash of lightning, Aedion one moment standing in the centre then in the next standing over the young man with is arm, twisted at a deranged angle, in hand. It’s become so easy, so easy to break and snap and twist bones while keeping his face smooth. To ignore the gritting sounds of flesh and bone moving in ways they’re not supposed to.

It shouldn’t be easy, but it is.

And damn it all to hell if that crack followed by surprised gasps isn’t at least a little bit satisfying.

Looking up, he meets everyone’s shocked gazes, their pale skin, literally smelling the fear on them. Yet out of the corner of his eye he sees that male. Grinning. As if he had just watched a friend win a victory.

What the hell?

~~~

The male is good, Aedion will admit that much.

So many of the young men in the ring are relying on brute strength and skill, which is what you want in soldiers.

But when you want a candidate for a higher position you need to look for someone who does more than jump into a fight with nothing but pure will. You need someone with strategy, someone who understands how to watch an opponent while watching themselves.

It begrudges him, but damn if the male doesn’t display some of those characteristics. Already Aedion is starting to take back the Bane, monitored yes, but slowly gathering aid under Adarlan’s nose. All he needs to do is become a general, which he’s already working towards, and he’ll guide the Bane under Terrasen without anyone knowing.

Someone as perspective as this ‘Kyllian’ could notice that.

Which isn’t a good thing.

“Interested?” The male in question throws a grin over his shoulder at Aedion, the training dummy cleanly disembowelled.

“What?” Aedion squints his eyes, tightening his crossed arms.

“You’ve been watching me for a solid ten minutes,” Kyllian flicks his brows up. “It looked a little like you wanted to kill me at one point. Either that or you’ve just been staring at my arms.”

Aedion is thankful that everyone else already left. “I’m sure you wish that.”

“Oh, I do.”

What the fuck.

Nearly swallowing, Aedion shakes his head. “Where are you from?”

“The Terrasen mountains. The Fangs, to be exact.”

Aedion can’t help the stuttering in his chest. The Fangs. Of course, it explains the darker complexion, eyes and hair, the muscles coursing under his skin thanks to the rough terrain, the earthy feel to the male that radiates solidarity...

How many times was Aedion taken up to the Fangs to train?

What has become of the people if one of their own natives is in an Adarlan training camp?

But... no, the male is talented. It makes sense that Adarlan would want people from the Fangs, people harshened by the elements, to become their soldiers instead of slaves. At least, some of them.

“So,” Kyllian drags Aedion to the present, “what do you say we go get a drink with the others? They’re already at the bar.”

“Of course they are,” Aedion mutters, earning a grin

“So?” Kyllian asks once again. “You coming?”

“I have work to do,” Aedion resists rolling his eyes at the way the male sags.

“Please?” Kyllian flicks his brows up. “Just this once to get to know the men?”

Aedion mauls it over, then sighs. “Why not?”

“Fantastic,” Kyllian grins. “You’ll love it.”

~~~

Surprisingly enough, Aedion does love it. Then again his blood has always boiled at the heavy heat, the loud music and the thumping feat agains the floor. At the rhythm that seems to flow through buildings, that signal that people are revelling in their victory. It almost makes him want to roar, the sound bubbling up in his throat that he swallows down with a glass of alcohol that’s surprisingly cold thanks to the freshly lain snow.

“I knew you’d love it,” Kyllian grins as soon as Aedion slams his glass back on the bar, seated at a stool with the man while the rest of the patrons dance to the band and mingle.

“Oh, did you?” Aedion leans in a little closer.

“Mhmm,” Kyllian follows his movement, eyes lidding slightly. “I’ve heard many, many rumours about you.”

A smirk spreads before Aedion can stop it. “Like what?”

“That you once ate a horse-“

“False, I just have a big appetite.”

“-that you once broke a tree in half with a stick-“

“It’s called an axe, and we needed firewood.”

“-that you’re sixteen-“

“Either that or I’m still fifteen, I don’t know the exact date of my birth, but yes, I turn sixteen this year.”

Kyllian pauses and blinks at Aedion. “I- you’re actually sixteen?”

“Yes?” Aedion raises a brow. “What are you?”

“Eighteen,” Kyllian mumbles, face darkening as he turn to look into his drink. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“You’re hot, but too young.”

Aedion nearly chokes on air. “I’m a lieutenant!”

“Also sixteen!” Kyllian says, face fallen. “I’m technically a legal adult. It wouldn’t feel right.”

“You do know that I’m higher commanding than you, right?” Aedion snorts, sipping his drink, watching Kyllian from the corner of his eye.

“Doesn’t matter how good you are at fighting,” Kyllian shakes his head. “It changes nothing with when you are or aren’t ready for fucking.”

Something in Aedion clangs at that, at the way the male suddenly no longer looks at him with lust.

That ready. He’s that ready to stop pursuing Aedion simply because of his age.

He may have even listened if Aedion simply said no.

“You’re strange,” Aedion simply decides on saying.

A wicked grin splits upon Kyllian’s face. “From you I’ll assume it’s a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” Aedion may lean in a little closer. “You’re smart.”

“Not as much as you I bet.”

~~~

Present time

~~~

“What happened at the bar?”

“This is the fiftieth time, Lysandra!” Aedion growls by the dresser, throwing a glare and a growl to the shifter on the bed. “It was nothing! Besides, why are you so interested in our past relationship? You and I are together now!”

“Because I like Kyllian,” Lysandra huffs, collapsing back against the pillows. “He tells Aelin and I stories about what you were like in the Bane.”

“He talks to Aelin?”

Aedion can only begin to fathom the chaos that would cause.

“Yes,” Lysandra rolls her eyes. “And it’s fine. I’m just interested in how he managed to gain your trust and favour.”

Aedion focuses on unbuttoning his shirt. “It wasn’t easy.”

“I wouldn’t imagine it to be. He must have done something impressionable if it gained your attention.”

The wolf of the north gives no answer.

~~~

Seven years ago

~~~

The Bane is nearly stable. It’s been growing in numbers, rebels and rebel sympathisers that join Aedion under the torn Terrasen banner. Already he’s accumulating the masses, slowly but surely, timidly bringing in people who may be trusted so that their forces can grow in power.

But, even then, he still has to go to the gods forsaken training camps in regular visits as a part of his duties as lieutenant.

But it’s not all bad.

Not all bad to stand in the training ring, and have onyx eyes glance at him with smiles, to have someone who he may dare to call a friend who shares jokes with him at the bar while slamming glasses of ale beaded with water down onto the soaked wood. To mar the cracked oak with wet rings that appear as though they may permanently stain the textile material.

So it’s not all bad.

Until he hears the screams of a female, and the yelled curses of two males.

One being Kyllian.

The snow crumbles under the thunder fo his feet as he propels himself towards the one of the camp buildings where the sounds emit from. The door collapses under his shoulder, propelled off its hinges by his pure force, imploding out towards the scene in front of him. A young woman lays sprawled on the ground, sobbing, shirt half torn off as she grasps at her torn collar with a hand to desperately keep it on.  
Against a table a man leans against it, both hands gripping the fist that’s curled in his shirts collar, hauling him up, his back arched over the table and mouth nearly foaming in anger.

Nerial, another lieutenant. And Adarlan bastard at that as well.

And Kyllian, bending over him, forcing him back on the table, one hand poised above his head in a fist.

The entire scene has frozen with Aedion’s entrance. Every head snapping to look at him besides the the woman, who simply flinches and curls in closer to her corner of the room.

Until Aedion sees the pipe in her hand and the bloody mark on Nerial’s head.

Well then.

A man sprawled on the table, injured, another clearly enraged and about t strike, and a sobbing woman you has no trouble defending herself if damn necessary. There’s a list of things to do from here on out:

One, see if the woman wants to join the Bane, because if she’s sick enough of the shit to lash out while like this, able to keep a clear head during such a situation, then it wouldn’t hurt to have a level head like hers in the war camp. And damn if Aedion couldn’t use another level headed warrior to help balance out the bloodlust.

Two, fire and disband Nerial.

Three, keep Kyllian from killing Nerial.

Although option three could be optional.

“What’s going on here?” Aedion raises a brow, as if he hasn’t deducted the majority of the situation.

“This bastard was-“

“He grabbed me and-“

“That fucking whore is a liar-“

Nerial’s words are cut off by Kyllian’s fist slamming into his face along with a torrent of cusses from the enraged man as he slams Nerial harder into the table. As expected, the woman releases a shuddering breath, yet to Aedion’s surprise is standing, holding the pipe steadily with clear eyes.

Oh, he’ll definitely have to find someone to train her.

Perhaps Kyllian himself.

“Enough,” Aedion strides forward, pulling Kyllian back with a hand on his shoulder. “Enough, Kyllian.”

Kyllian, who can be quiet and steady at times besides his occasional joke and roguish laughter when it comes to those he trusts. Kyllian, who stands back and takes everything in with his keen attention to detail, then speaks up vehemently when he gains the chance or feels the need to.

Kyllian, who is calm like the earth.

Until, apparently, he finds a good enough reason to explode.

“This bastard was holding her down,” Kyllian’s voice shakes with rage as he slowly expels a breath, fingers uncurling. “She was telling him to stop but he didn’t listen to her.”

Aedion slides his gaze to the woman, who meets his gaze and holds it without flinching. “Is that true?”

“Yes. After he tried to tear my shirt I grabbed this pipe by the table and smashed him with it.”

Oh, he likes her.

“Right,” Aedion smiles at Nerial. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” He scoffs. “What do you mean? That bitch is the one who-“

This time it’s Aedion’s fist who smashes into his mouth, and he grabs Nerial by the back of his collar to drag him out.

“Kyllian-“ he pauses, looking over his shoulder before they leave.

“I’ll take care of the blood.”

Aedion flicks his gaze to the woman. “Look after her. We need to talk later.”

And thus, later that evening, two new members join the Bane.

Years later, and it’s never been considered a mistake.

~~~

Seven months later, and Aedion’s in the year that he turns eighteen.

So many people have said ‘you’re an adult now!’ or at the very least something along those lines.

It’s such complete and utter shit. They had no problem forcing him to become an adult when he was thirteen; there’s no point in pretending that his age matters now. Even when a group of jostling, joyous men from the Bane drag him to a tavern, and he goes along, feigning the smile and the joy. Kyllian is there as well, slapping Aedion on the back, congratulating him on his ‘ascension to adulthood.’

Fucking hilarious. Fucking hilarious that they’re happy to forget age limits when sending children to war or setting them to work, but will then later pretend it matters so they can say ‘it’s alright! This person’s now an adult!’ as an excuse for the rest of the shit they’ll have to go through in their life. All the words swallow down easier with alcohol, the drink loosening the words in his head with hushed, curled fingers that burn the back of his throat before travelling up his head.

“To Aedion!”

“Aedion!”

It’s not even his birthday. They find out he turns eighteen this year, not even knowing the date, and just decide to celebrate.

Almost as if it’s nothing but an excuse to go drink liquor.

Which it probably is, considering there’s no one left who knows or would sincerely want to celebrate the date of Aedion’s birth.

“Are you alright?” A voice, slightly deep, smoothly asks into Aedion’s ear.

Kyllian.

Kyllian, who he’s been trading looks with for at least a few months now. Kyllian, who has been paired with Aedion for nearly two years now. It would be such a lie to say that Aedion hasn’t felt his commanders gaze on him, hasn’t recognised the signs of attraction.

In all honesty, he wants it to stop.

He’ll just do what he has to do to make it stop. Once should be enough. It almost always was.

“I’m perfect,” Aedion tilts his head so his mouth brushes by Kyllian’s ear as he leans back in his seat, his voice soft and hushed. “You know, I’m an adult now, and I’m fairly certain there are rooms in the upper levels.”

He hears the swallow. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I could do a flip right now and recite all the letters in my name backwards. I’ve only had one glass.”

Enough to warm his head, enough so that he can get what they’re about to do over with, but nothing else.

Kyllian pulls back, onyx eyes studying him closely, analysing the planes of Aedion’s face and eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“It’s something we’ve both wanted for a while.”

Not a lie, Aedion has wanted it, he has stared at Kyllian as much as Kyllian has stared at him. But he’s ready to stop wanting it. It’s tiring, the tension. And as soon as they both get it out of their system they’ll go back to normal, to just being friends again. Friends are so much safer.

Kyllian releases a shaking breath, leaning in towards Aedion again.

“Upstairs,” Aedion softly suggests, the drinking, dancing and yelling of the soldiers a distant sound in the back of his head.

He doesn’t bother locking the door when the enter the room. There’s no need to try to keep anything out.

~~~

He slips out of the bed, not at all sated when he looks down at Kyllian, laying on his stomach with one arm tucked under his head as the sun causes him to practically glow, his darker shades standing out against the pale white of the sheets. His face in unstrained, unlined, lax with sleep as his back rises and falls in easy breathing, mouth parted slightly.

It’s all Aedion can do to hold back the bile rising in his throat, to stop his hand from shaking as it clenches the doorknob. There are no bruises on either of them, no remaining marks of any kind.

They can put it behind them and be friends again, without a looks and heat and want.

Without the lust that has always brought nothing but terror into the back of Aedion’s head, no matter who it is directed from.

He closes the door behind him.

~~~

“Aedion?”

He holds the bile back again, swallowing it back down into his churning stomach as a smile force its way onto his face. he turns to grin at Kyllian.

“Where were you this morning?”

“I had to meet with some lieutenants to talk about the Bane’s positioning,” Aedion shrugs it off easily. “Ready for the meetings?”

Kyllian is staring at him, eyes inquisitive and searching, as if looking for something hidden. “Alright,” his voice is slow, hesitant. “Let’s go.”

~~~

“We need to talk.”

Aedion raises a brow at Kyllian. “Can I piss first?”

Kyllian remains leaning heavily against the door frame of the bathroom in the tavern, the room just a little ways down the hallway, tucked out of sight around the corner from the drinking men.

Not the same tavern. They haven’t been back to that one in a while.

“I want to know what the hell is going on.”

“I’m trying to piss but there’s an oaf in the doorway,” Aedion drawls, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“You were shaking,” Kyllian lowers his voice, face drawn into concern. “The other night. I thought it because of a different reason, but you were shaking like you were injured, that’s why I stopped; because I noticed something was wrong, that you weren’t happy. Talk to me, Aedion. We can’t just pretend nothing had happened.”

“We slept together,” Aedion shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe not all the way, but we both got something. It’s what we both wanted.”

“I don’t think it was,” Kyllian’s dark eyes never leave his face. “You didn’t look as though you were enjoying yourself.”

“It was fine!” Aedion resists the urge to throw his hands up, sending a cautionary glance at the men around the corner, still as loud as ever. “I did. We both got what we wanted, now we can drop it.”

Kyllian blinks at him, face going slap for a moment before rightening with understanding. “That’s what you think I wanted? Just that? Aedion, I wanted you to enjoy it too, I wanted for it to be more.”

“More?” Aedion resists frowning, instead throwing up another smirk. “There are rooms here if you didn’t get it all out of your system.”

Cruel, yes. But the sooner it’s all finished the better-

“A relationship, Aedion. I wanted a relationship.”

Kyllian watches Aedion as he processes the new information, the blond blinking rapidly, eyes far away as if reading the words over again in his mind to find a definition. Sighing, Kyllian grabs Aedion’s arm and leads him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

The way Aedion stiffens under his touch, readying himself, says enough.

The other night, the clear displeasure and reluctance, said enough.

“Aedion,” Kyllian keeps his voice low, largely aware of the people outside the room. “What did you think I wanted?”

“To fuck,” Aedion scowls, leaning out of his grip. “And we did, or at the very least came close to.”

“I won’t lie,” Kyllian shakes his head, “that was somewhere in the agenda. But I want to know what you wanted. Did you really want us to do what we did?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because it just does.”

This time Aedion does throw his hands up, a growl finally escaping, his control dissipated. “You got what you wanted! So the looks, the touches, the advances can just stop! I’m not willing to go through so much pain just for the chance of making another person feel good! I’m sick of it!”

This time it’s Kyllian who blinks, looking near knocked off his feet. “Is that what you think a relationship is?”

“No!” Aedion growls, then pulls it back, shaking his head. “No, I know it’s not. It’s just- shit-“

“It doesn’t have to be painful,” Kyllian swallows, throat dry and pained suddenly. “No, it shouldn’t be. It should never be painful. Not the intimacy, not the relationship, none of it. That’s not what I wanted.”

“Then what do you want?” Aedion’s anger strangely enough slips away, leaving him tired and drained as he leans against the wall. “We did it, you got some intimacy. I did it so you would be sated and we could move on.”

“That’s not why you should do something like that,” Kyllian shakes his head. “Not to get it over and done with, not to please another person so you won’t have to deal with their advances. You could have just asked me to stop.”

“Trust me,” Aedion laughs humorously, “it’s not the worse reason I’ve been intimate with anyone.”

A silence stretches between them, long and thin, unable to be filled by words because neither party knows what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Kyllian finally says, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t know my current advances were making you feel so uncomfortable and pressured. I’m sorry the wrong message got across. I really wan’t just after the physical intimacy. But you need to know that a relationship is about mutual effort, that you shouldn’t have to put yourself through pain to make others happy. That’s not what I want at all.”

Aedion shakes his head slightly too. “I don’t really know what you want now.”

Kyllian sucks in a slow breath, then expels it. “I don’t think you understand either. Give me a chance to change your views, and if you continue to not want a relationship with me then we can just go back to being friends. I swear it. I just want to give you a chance to see what it could be instead fo what you think it may be. I think some mistakes have been made in what we both thought the other wanted.”

Aedion examines him closely. “What did you have in mind?”

It’s annoying, how different it is with him. How he truly believes that Kyllian will keep his word, that his smile at Aedion’s response is genuine. Perhaps because he knows Kyllian, because he’s seen him defend people’s rights and Aedion’s own, because he stopped the other night even though he could have continued. It feels as though things could be different.

And maybe even good.

~~~

Present time

~~~

“Your father did know about our relationship, right?”

“Yes, Kyllian,” Aedion smirks as he exits the training ring, an equally exhausted Kyllian in tow. “We talked about it.”

“Right.”

There’s a few moments of silence.

“He’s not going to kill me, is he?”

Snorting, Aedion chugs a glass of water, wiping at his mouth once done. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Kyllian shifts uncomfortable, dragging a hand through his wild mane of black hair. “I keep getting this feeling that I’m being watched? I swear I keep hearing growls and stuff since I’ve arrived. And maybe a feather here and there, which is confusing.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Aedion shakes is head, a genuine smile on his face.

“I’m serious!” Kyllian follows after him. “Aedion! What do I do if your cadre uncles interrogate me?”

“My what?” Aedion chokes. “You do realise that one of them is my father, and the other practically my brother-in-law, yes?”

Kyllian continues to scowl. “What about Lorcan, Fenrys and Vaughan?”

“Lorcan isn’t even here.”

“And thank the gods for that.”

“You’re overreacting,” Aedion rolls his eyes.

“I swear to the gods your father is just waiting for the right time to interrogate me. Fenrys has already suggested us training together.”

“You should do it.”

“Of course I am, it’s the cadre. But what if he questions me?”

“I don’t know,” Aedion groans, turning away. “You’ve survived war interrogation. You’ll be fine.”

“No, I won’t be!”

~~~

“So, Kyllian,” Fenrys flashes him a grin, flipping the sword in his hand, “How long have you known Aedion now?”

“Since he was sixteen, so eight years.”

That answer would be a lot less unnerving to give if Gavriel, Rowan and Vaughan weren’t standing right next to the ring in a line, watching intently.

“Eight years is a long time to know someone.”

“I guess it is,” Kyllian tries smiling, “but compared to your hundreds of years as members of the cadre it must seem small.”

The smile slowly disappears as it gets no response, the former cadre members all watching without amusement. Except Fenrys, who grins and taunts like a beast that found food to play with.

Kyllian wonders how he and Aedion get along. They’re quite alike. Gods help anyone that are stuck in a room with the two of them.

“So,” Kyllian tries to find conversation, “have you trained with Lysandra yet?”

“Of course,” Fenrys shrugs, then onyx eyes meet onyx eyes. “Then again, we know Lysandra. She’s not a stranger from a war camp that suddenly popped up that we know nothing about.”

Kyllian swallows.

“Tell us about yourself.”

“I’m twenty-six years old and am a native from the Fangs. I joined the ranks when I was fifteen and then met Aedion years later when I was eighteen and he was sixteen, and once he turned eighteen we had a romantic relationship that lasted three years before falling back into friendship. We were friends first, and have always worked best as such.”

Fenrys’ eyebrows flick up at the last statement. “So you relationship wasn’t a good one?”

“It was one of the best relationships of my life,” Kyllian answers with surety and without hesitation. “I enjoyed every moment of it, but in the end it couldn’t be sustained. We just realised that our relationship was beginning to be based one friendship more then romance, and decided that the healthiest option would be to remain close friends and nothing more. We didn’t want to try to force a romantic connection when it had merged more into friendship.”

“That couldn’t have been an easy conversation,” Fenrys appraises Kyllian in a new light.

“I won’t pretend it was,” Kyllian can’t keep his voice from quieting.

Fenrys nods, a new appreciation in his eyes. “Good… Now what happened at the bar?”

“Fenrys.”

It shocks Kyllian how all the fae males can bark the word at the same time yet in three different, terrifying ways.

~~~

Four years ago

~~~

“Shit,” Aedion breathes in shakily, kicking the door to the tavern open. “This place is just as deserted as everywhere else.”

Kyllian quickly forges in after him, turning around and bolting the door against the blizzard. Without prompting Aedion quickly strides towards the fire place, thanking the gods under his breath for the dry wood. He removes the moves from his hands after he drops the flint twice, finally striking up a fire.

“It’s actually not too bad in here,” Kyllian sheds his jacket, allowing the snow-sodden thing to fall on the ground.

Aedion in turn sheds his heavy jacket, sighing in relief and rolling his shoulders at the freedom of no longer having the weight upon him. Kyllian collapses in front of the fire, inching as close to the flames as he dares. Aedion takes in their surroundings, from the tables, to the seats, to the-

“Kyllian,” Aedion blinks. “It’s the bar.”

“What?”  
“That’s the bar. This is the tavern from three years ago.”

Slowly, Kyllian sits up from where he had sprawled on his back. “Aedion, I know you’re a trickster-“

“There’s booze.”

Kyllian leaps to his feet. “Fantastic.”

Three bottles later and their both laughing quietly in the empty tavern, Aedion pushed back against the bar with Kyllian trailing kisses down his neck, Aedion’s scar flecked hands tugging at his shirt. Aedion in turn pushes his body back against Kyllian’s, breathing in deeply, relishing in the fire that stirs underneath his skin. Not the kind of fire that burns under his flesh, that makes him want to scrub at his body until its clean of all traces of intimacy, but the kind of fire that warms him to the pit of his core, that lights up underneath Kyllian’s lips in a blazing trail.  
Kyllian in turn groans against Aedion’s skin, pushing back with just as much urgency.  
The bottle on the bar rattle, even as they fall to the ground.

~~~

Present time

~~~

Kyllian looks Fenrys in the eye, who is still flinching at the yells and mutterings of the other former-cadre members. “You want to know what happened at the bar?”

Interest captured, Fenrys’ head whips around to look at Kyllian, eyes wide.

“We fucked.”

There’s dead silence, Fenrys’ eyes widening slowly, his mouth parting as the sword in his hand goes lax. All the other former cadre members have frozen in their movements, starting at Kyllian in what he can only guess is horror, Gavriel himself particularly pale.

So Kyllian turns on his heel and runs.

_“Where the fuck do-“_

_“Holy shit, boyo really did-“_

_“Gavriel you need to sit-“_

_“The fucking bas-“_

Aedion holds no sympathy as he watches his friend be hunted down through the castle by four ancient fae.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you enjoyed this take a look at my fic 'Lion's Pride,' because this is one of the chapters from it! Take a look at it to see some other Aedion Ashryver stuff, along with Gavriel and the rest of the court family ;)


End file.
